


Cryomancy

by Renaerys



Category: Frozen (2013), Rise of the Guardians (2012), Tangled (2010)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 01:46:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1286593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renaerys/pseuds/Renaerys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Disgraced and forgotten, Pitch Black concocts a plan to reset the balance of the world. After all, what good is the brightest light without a dark void in which to shine? </p><p>[Jelsa (Jack Frost/Elsa), peripheral Pitch/Elsa, KristAnna, Flynn/Rapunzel]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Dark Side of the Moon

* * *

The only thing worse than the prospect of being forgotten was the sheer ignominy of being beaten. The real tragedy was not his wounded pride, but their dogged pursuit of quixotic “ideals” and “morals” and “happily ever afters” about which they knew nothing. But don’t tell that to _them_. They’d never listen to him, anyway.

The Boogeyman was evil, _vile_. Nothing worthwhile ever came out of his mouth, _of course_. Why, he was sure North could have shat under a child’s Christmas tree and gotten away with it. A _Guardian_ could do no wrong, but the Boogeyman?

“Pusillanimous fools. They know nothing.”

But Pitch Black knew. More importantly, the Man in the Moon knew.

“I suppose you’re proud of your homemade hero squad,” Pitch said.

A full moon shined down on him and dispelled the darkness about him. Moonbeams hit nearby trees and cast winding shadows that crawled toward Pitch. He ignored them, unconcerned with such pitiful leeches looking for a power source to ride. There was no wind tonight, and Pitch’s words went unanswered. It was always like this. The Man in the Moon was always listening, always watching, but he never acknowledged. He never apologized.

“So that’s it, then? I go back to lurking in shadows like I don’t exist? Like a coward?”

Moonlight illuminated Pitch’s aquiline features. He was unused to direct exposure to the light, his skin having absorbed too much shadow to stand it for long. But he held his ground, for he had the most powerful weapon of all.

“You’re the coward, old man,” Pitch spat. “You can’t even tell them the truth, can you? No, that would be far too hasty. We can’t worry their pretty little heads or the spell will be broken, right? Well, I’m through playing a game with loaded dice. Someday, all children must grow up and face the filth of this world.”

Crooked shadows shifted and tugged Pitch’s long robe, but he waved his hand and tore at them with invisible claws. They cowered and receded to darkness. The moon above remained steady and solemn.

“Perhaps you would have them believe that light trumps darkness because it’s “good.” But sooner or later, even those cretins will figure it out. There can be no light without darkness. The brighter the light, the darker the shadow it casts.” Pitch bared his teeth at the moon, wishing he would come down here and answer for his follies instead of making Pitch bear the consequences alone. “Even the great moon has a dark side no one can see. But I see it.”

Pitch raised a hand and peered at the moon through his outstretched fingers.

“Someone has to.” Shadowy ribbons curled among his fingers. “There must always be a balance. Stare into the light too long and you’ll go blind...”

The shadow ribbons wove together and expanded. The tree branch shadows Pitch had scared away before scrambled toward the vortex, insatiable. Even the moon’s light could not illuminate the portal’s dark depths. Pitch cast the moon one last, lingering glance.

“Lucky for you, I’m happy to restore that balance. Your Guardians are tethered to this world, but nightmares, fear... They’re universal.”

With only the moon as his witness, Pitch stepped through the swirling vortex and let darkness engulf him. He was gone.

* * *

 

Elsa swallowed and pulled her shoulders back to correct her already perfect posture. The standing was not something she minded, but the waiting was grating on her nerves. To her left, Kristoff stood on shuffling feet, picking his nose. Elsa cleared her throat to get his attention, but he was oblivious. Try as she might, she could not look away as he dug out a lumpy booger and squinted at it on his fingertip.

Elsa tapped her foot and sent a chill up Kristoff’s spine that made the burly man twitch, like he had ants in his pants. One of the royal guardsmen stationed behind Elsa chuckled, and Kristoff shot Elsa a wounded look. She bit back a smirk when he rubbed his finger on his shirt. Better there than in his mouth, she supposed.

Finally, Anna decided to grace the court with her ungainly presence. As usual, she had her hair in messy braids and looked as though she’d just come back from running a mile in snow slush. Perhaps she had, and that would explain her tardiness. But the smile on her face when she locked eyes first with Elsa and then with Kristoff was proof enough. Kristoff had forgotten all about Elsa’s little trick and swiveled on the balls of his feet, ready to take off and sweep Anna off her feet at any moment. Elsa smiled. She could not have wished for a better match for her beloved baby sister.

Anna’s pointed high heel caught on the blue rug and she face-planted on the floor. Her bouquet lay in smashed petals on the floor, and she rubbed her nose as she pushed herself up.

“Ow.”

“Whoa Anna, you okay?” Kristoff loped toward her. His gait was not unlike a moose’s, and he towered over Anna with the comparable height of a moose as he helped her stand.

Elsa sighed and her breath turned to snowflakes. No better match, indeed.

“I’m okay!” Anna said, letting Kristoff help her up. She tugged at one of her braids and glanced and Elsa. “Sorry. About the tripping, I mean. That was dumb. I’m dumb. I mean, well, not _dumb_ , per se, it was an accident...”

“It’s all right, Anna,” Elsa said, her eyes softening. “Maybe we can do without the rug on the big day?” She gestured to one of the royal guardsmen stationed behind her, who saluted and scrambled to roll up the expensive rug.

“Yeah, maybe that’s a good idea, haha...”

Elsa stepped down from a raised platform to join her sister and Kristoff. “There’s still plenty of time before the wedding. We can practice again.”

Anna beamed and took Kristoff’s hands. “Can you believe it? We’re really getting married!”

“I believe it. Although between us, ol’ Pabbie was a little put off when I told him Elsa’d be officiating,” Kristoff said, leaning in close and putting an arm each around the sisters as though this were some great conspiracy.

“Yeah, well, you remember what happened the _last_ time your crazy troll family tried to marry us.” Anna poked her fiance in the chest.

Elsa laughed and took that as her cue to leave the happy couple to enjoy their engagement. “I have some things to take care of, so I’ll see both of you later, all right?”

“So soon? But Kristoff and I were going to talk about cakes for the reception.”

Elsa’s expression softened. “I’m sure whatever you choose will be perfect. It’s your wedding, after all. It should be special.”

“You know what says special? A giant ice sculpture of us in my sled.”

Anna rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah? And who’s gonna build that? Not _you_.”

Kristoff gave his bride-to-be a wounded look. “But I’m the official Ice Master. That’s _something_.”

“Oh please. There’s really only one ice master around here and she looks way better in a dress than you do.”

Kristoff reddened. “You promised never to talk about that again.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault Olaf won your little bet.”

“ _Anna_!”

Anna covered her mouth to hide her giggle. “At least now you’ll take him seriously the next time you play Old Maid.”

Elsa slipped away while they bantered, unwilling to intrude on their moment. She skulked through a side door through a hidden passage before emerging in a sitting room where she let out a breath she’d been holding. It steamed, and she rubbed her hands together. Not for warmth (she’d never needed warmth), but for comfort.

Anna was so good with Kristoff, whom Elsa had learned was a bit of a pariah himself. She could relate, although she’d never made a habit of talking to animals...or responding for them. He was everything Elsa wanted for Anna, for their family. To see him with Anna was a joy. A miracle. Elsa had seen miracles her her short life, and love never disappointed.

Silence and empty hallways. Arendelle castle was always bustling with people going someplace or other, but Elsa never saw many of them. At first, she paid it little mind, but after awhile the lies caught up to her. She didn’t mean to avoid contact, not after everything she and Anna had gone through to save the kingdom ( _to save me,_ I _was the problem_ ). Old habits died hard. Aside from the daily court she held to hear the townspeople’s grievances and requests, Elsa had little meaningful contact with people outside of Anna, Kristoff, and the elite guards stationed about the castle. She went outside, but she hardly ventured beyond the palace gates without guards. They weren’t for her benefit, but for everyone else’s. There had been no major incidents since she’d returned to Arendelle, but it paid to be cautious. With Anna’s wedding on the horizon, no one seemed to notice or mind the Snow Queen’s natural reservation; Elsa had always kept to herself when she could.

Elsa stole upstairs to her chambers. The sun had set and she planned to review the revised trade agreement with the kingdom of Corona in the south before bed. Work was a pleasant distraction that kept Elsa’s hands busy and close to room temperature. This was the easy part of being queen.

Her chambers were dark when she entered despite the glow of the full moon outside. Elsa locked the door behind her and searched her desk for a candle. She struck a match and held it against a candle, but the flame snuffed out under a phantom wind. Elsa shivered (she _never_ shivered).

“...Who’s there?” she demanded, peering into the darkness.

There was no answer, and Elsa drew power to her hands. The temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees.

“Such a chilly welcome,” a voice said from the shadows. “Though, I suppose I should have expected no less from the Snow Queen herself.”

Elsa gritted her teeth and fired off an ice bolt. Blue light illuminated the shadows, and they dispersed across the room’s walls and windows, obscuring the moonlight.

“Show yourself,” Elsa said.

A man’s laughter permeated the room from all sides. “What is it about you frigid types?” The shadows blended together and took the shape of a man swathed in shade. His yellow eyes caught the moonlight but offered no light of their own. “You’re all so _impatient_.”

Elsa’s hands shook at the sight of this man. How he’d come here she could not say, but there was something dark and demented about him. Something cold and achingly familiar, but not comforting. She clenched her fists and stood her ground.

“I’ll ask you again, and I suggest you answer me this time. Who are you?”

“You could say I’m an old friend. You and I have done great things together.” He paused, and Elsa found no words for him. “I’m Pitch Black.”

Elsa regained her bearings and glared at the stranger. “You’re mistaken. I’ve never seen you in my life.”

Pitch glided toward her (yes, _glided_ , as though he had no connection to the physical earth, a shadow incarnate) until he was inches from her. Elsa held her ground and let her power leak through her fingertips, so easy despite keeping it bottled up most of the time. Pitch brushed his fingers against hers, and frost crystals dusted his fingers where they touched.

“No, but you’ve _felt_ me.” He waved his frozen hand before her eyes, and the ice crystals bled black until they smoked. “I’m your fear.”

Elsa watched whatever magic he possessed warp her gift, mesmerized.

_Not a gift; a curse._

She blinked to dispel the little voice in her head, one she’d buried deep in the pit of her heart after she’d made her return to Arendelle to rule. How did this man draw it out of her so easily after months and months of repression? Elsa had thought she was past such fears...

“Ah, it looks like you recognize me now,” Pitch said.

Elsa remained still even as the logical part of her mind begged for retreat. Something kept her grounded, near. Intrigued. She’d spent enough time alone with her fear in her young life to grow curious enough to ask _why_?

“Why do you have this power?”

He almost appeared transparent, like he might fade at any moment. Was he even real?

Pitch grinned. “Believe in something hard enough and it’s bound to come true... Well, whether you want it to or not. I suppose I’m in the _not_ category, but I prefer to think of myself as a natural disaster. I’m sure you can relate.”

_Yes._

“No, and I want you to leave. Now.”

She indicated the door as though this would prove her point, but Pitch merely circled her, ignoring the door. Elsa shivered again, and she recognized the effect.

Not cold; _fear._

Her only friend for so many years.

“You haven’t even heard what I have to say yet. Elsa...”

His fingers brushed the wisps of her bangs, tender and real. And Elsa believed.

She shot a hand out to grab his wrist and squeezed hard. Ice thorns sprouted at her fingertips, spreading up Pitch’s arm with a mind of their own. He faltered, and it was all Elsa needed. He was real, and he could suffer.

But he only smiled wider as black liquid oozed from frostbitten puncture wounds in his arm, dripping on the stone floor at their feet and burning through it like acid. All this transpired in silence. Curiosity needed no words.

She released him before his blood could coat her hands and watched as the dark liquid bled over the icy thorns she’d given him.

“I came all this way just to see you, so _please_ ,” Pitch said, ignoring his injured arm like it was nothing.

Elsa swallowed and met his gaze. He was real, flesh and blood of _some_ kind. She could believe that much, at least.

“...What do you want?”

“Why, I want to help you.” He paused and gave her a once over. “You look like you need it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Pitch chuckled and shadows danced at Elsa’s feet. “Yes, you do. You’re a queen now, congratulations. But even a queen fears what’s under her bed at night. Or do you deny that your gift terrifies you?”

Elsa narrowed her eyes. “I’m past that. I was afraid once, and that fear hurt others. But things are different now. It’s why I was able to return here.”

Pitch crept close to her face. “Are you _absolutely_ sure of that?” he whispered. “Are you so certain that you’ll never make a mistake?” He licked his lips and peered into her eyes, searching and seeing. “That you won’t...hurt Anna again?”

Elsa lunged for him without thinking, her frosted fingers clawing for his face. But Pitch disintegrated under her touch, and she only grasped at incorporeal shadows. Like he was never there at all.

Only his voice reached her as the window to her room burst open and starlight filled the void where he’d been before. “I’ll give you some time to think about my offer.”

With his voice the shadows left and Elsa was alone in her room again. She went to the window and peered outside, but there was no sign of anyone at all. Only the stars and the full moon looked down on Elsa.

He was wrong. Elsa had overcome her fear long ago. She would never hurt anyone again.

She closed and locked the window, her hands shaking all the while.

* * *

 

Days passed and Elsa was busy meeting with visiting officials from Corona about their trade agreement. The king and queen of Corona wanted more amendments due to some major changes the kingdom had experienced both with the return of a long-lost princess and forecasts for a dismal farming year. As understandable as the excuses were, they did not make meetings with with the Coronan officials, surly seamen-turned-politicians, any more bearable. But Elsa took it in stride. It was her duty as queen, and she was thankful for the distraction lately.

It gave her less time to dwell on her disturbing midnight visitor from the other day.

“No, this isn’t good enough. Corona’s looking at dry season coming up, and we’ll need a better rate to account for the extra imports,” one of the trade officials complained as he read over the revised agreement.

Erik, the Arendelle court’s chief economist, shook his head. “Be reasonable. What you’re suggesting is more than what Arendelle can part with.”

Elsa looked on as her advisers and Corona’s argued the terms. They were not getting far at this rate, and it was becoming clear that someone would have to relent. Her drafting attorneys, of course, would have preferred it be Corona what with the _risk_ of generosity.

“Gentlemen,” Elsa said.

No one heard, and the arguing intensified. She frowned.

“Excuse me.”

One of her advisers slammed a hand on the table in anger and a Coronan official pointed angrily at Erik. Elsa clenched her fists.

“Enough!”

Frost crystals spread around the meeting room down the legs of Elsa’s chair across the floor and up the table. Mugs of tea and coffee cracked, their contents frozen. One Coronan official yelped and yanked his hand back to avoid frost burn.

The room was silent, but Elsa was not happy for it. She gripped the armrests of her chair so tight she thought her knuckles might burst and bleed. Something twisted inside, an old, familiar whisper in her ear. Her demons were quiet but never quite silent, always waiting for a chance to slither back into her ears to get at her frozen heart.

_“Ah, it looks like you recognize me now.”_

All this passed in the span of a half second, and Elsa rose abruptly. She steeled her gaze, giving nothing away. “This meeting is adjourned. Erik.” She turned to her chief economist, who watched her with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. “Fix this. I want a resolution by the end of the day. Corona is our valuable ally and I will not turn them away empty-handed. Am I clear?”

He nodded, “Y-Yes, of course, Your Majesty.”

Elsa blinked, the other room’s occupant’s gazes getting to her. “...Apologies, gentlemen. I think we could all use some time away to regroup. Please relax for the rest of the morning.”

She nodded to them, and everyone scrambled to rise and bow as she exited the room. Whispers followed her, and though Elsa could not make them out, she didn’t need to. She already knew what they said about her.

As she walked through the castle, the Queen of Arendelle crossed her arms to hide her hands. Most of the palace’s officials were used to her powers by now, even the unexpected outbursts from time to time. She never did any harm, and this world was alight with magics of all kinds, besides. Corona’s own lost princess was rumored to have the power of the summer sun, giving life to the hopeless and the hurting. Elsa’s anomaly was no surprise in the grand scheme of things, but people still feared that which they could not understand for themselves.

Elsa spent the rest of the day trying to take her mind off her troubled thoughts. She listened to the townspeople’s complaints and requests with keen interest, making note of even the smallest grievances and overseeing their amelioration herself. The day lost track of her and soon darkness set in. Retreating to her room, she did not want to dwell on Pitch Black and his words, words that had followed her like a second shadow since his first appearance. Words that echoed in her ears as the Corona officials stared in shock at her uncontrolled outburst earlier. (They did come to an agreement in the end once Anna offered to sit in and parlay with the Coronan officials, but Elsa wasn’t sure if she should be happy about that all things considered.)

The thick darkness, almost viscous in its density, that greeted her in her room was almost relaxing. Facing the fear as a tangible thing had to be better than hallucinations whispering in her ear.

“Queen Elsa, you’re looking pale. Have you seen a ghost?”

Pitch materialized from the darkness beneath Elsa’s window, his presence veiling the light of the moon. Unlike last time, he didn’t bother lurking and approached her with purpose.

“What do you want, Pitch?”

Blue light crackled in her palms in reaction to him, ready to fire at a moment’s notice. If Pitch noticed, he didn’t care.

“I told you. I want to help you,” he said, spreading his arms in show of trust.

“I’m sure it won’t surprise you to hear that I doubt that.”

Pitch sighed and let his arms fall to his sides. “You see, that’s your problem. You have these black and white notions of “good” and “bad” in your head, but deep down you know the world isn’t so simplistic. Just take a look in the mirror.”

Elsa hesitated. “...I’m not evil. I would never hurt anyone.”

“I’m not suggesting you would. I’m sure you don’t want to, but accidents _do_ happen, as they say.”

Elsa said nothing to that, thinking back on the events of this morning. Her eyes fell.

“Like I said, I want to help. Wouldn’t it be nice if you didn’t have to worry about those little accidents anymore? Someday, one of them is bound to go just a bit too far. It’s only a matter of time, you see.”

Elsa met his yellowed gaze. “...What are you saying?”

He smirked.

“I told you before that people believe in me. I am Fear. Everyone’s afraid of something. It’s the only universal besides death, although I like to think I’m a bit more fun than Death himself.”

“Get to the point.”

“...Of course. To be blunt, I can help you control your fear so that it can’t control you. No more mishaps, and no more skulking about the palace avoiding people.”

Elsa’s hands reverted to normal and she let them rest at her sides. Such pretty words... “Why would you want to help me? I’ve lived in fear long enough to know it doesn’t do anyone any favors. You’re not offering out of the goodness of your heart.”

Pitch laughed. “True, everyone has a price. But know this: Just because the night is dark, doesn’t mean it’s hiding monsters. Just because your magic and mine _can_ kill, doesn’t mean we _must_. It’s all about perception. Some might know me as a nightmare, but to you I’m a dream come true. That is, if you take my deal.”

When he spoke, she listened. Elsa got the impression that he was used to that effect on others. People tended to fixate on their fears, obsess over them and hold them dear even as they bled to death. Like selfish children hoarding sweets. This fear was _hers_ to keep, and no one else’s.

“How do I know you can do anything for me?”

“If there’s one thing I know, it’s that dreaded chill in your bones that keeps you awake at night, the little demons holding your heart hostage. They’re _mine_.” Pitch gestured to himself. “And so far, they’ve done right by me.”

All the love in the world could thaw even the harshest winter, but Elsa’s powers remained. Nothing much had changed since her exile except that now the people of Arendelle were used to Elsa’s magic. She’d gained more control over herself, become braver, but the fear was still there, somewhere. It was there when Elsa lay in bed at night, her breath misting. It was there when she dreamed, her nightmares calling snow to her room as if to bury her in a coffin of her own delusional making. And it was there when she looked at Anna, the person she loved most. One mistake, one little slip-up...

“What would I owe you in return?” she asked.

“Just a favor,” Pitch said, eyeing her with an unreadable expression. “The thing about being me is that my existence depends on people believing in me, especially children. Without that fear, even buried deep, I waste away. If that happens, I want a promise that you’ll intervene on my behalf in any way you can.”

“It sounds like you’re expecting something to happen to you. I don’t make blind promises.”

“Come now, Elsa. All I’m asking is for a little assistance in case I’m about to die. Surely you would never refuse the wish of a man on his deathbed?”

She didn’t trust him, not for a moment. But his offer was too tempting. Elsa had tried to move past the events surrounding her coronation debacle, but a part of her knew she could not. Not for as long as she had this _thing_ inside her. If she could not kill it, she had to tame it. And who better to teach her how to control her fear than Fear himself?

Asking for his life in return was a fair price. A life for a life.

“...All right, I’ll accept your terms on the condition that nothing of our deal will involve Arendelle or its people. This is between you and me.”

Pitch grinned and he reached a hand out to her. The shadows surrounding him shifted, and for a moment Elsa thought he looked so frighteningly human that she hesitated, entranced.

“Then we have a deal.”

Elsa brushed her fingers against his, and he closed the distance between them by gripping her hand. His touch was solid and firm, cold, not unlike her own. Shadows swirled about their clasped hands and snaked up Elsa’s arm to her shoulder, finally hovering over her heart and sinking in through her dress. She gasped, but he Pitch would not release her.

“What are you—”

“Don’t struggle. It’s almost done.”

Darkness danced around her, soaking her skin through her clothes and making her feel heavy. Elsa’s breathing was short and labored for all of a few seconds, and just like that the darkness faded. She was herself again, and nothing was amiss. Pitch released her.

“What was that?” she demanded.

“My end of the bargain.” He waved a hand before his face in a gesture of nonchalance, like it was so obvious. “This place gives me so much leeway, you know. I merely locked onto your fear and constrained it. You should have an easier time dealing with it. Of course, fear is chaos. Even _I_ can’t predict where it will go.”

Elsa didn’t like the sound of that, but she had to admit that she felt better, lighter somehow. She flexed her fingers and conjured sleet. Nothing much had changed except for the smile wanting to take over her face.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Your Majesty.”

Elsa caught him about to leave, and she grabbed his wrist. “Wait. This favor you want... When will you need it? What are you planning?”

Pitch made no effort to break free of her hold. “I don’t divine the future, unfortunately. For now, I suggest you return to your kingdom. When the time comes for our paths to cross again, you’ll know.”

Something about Pitch unnerved Elsa. Fear, as he said, was a disease shunned by every living being. But did that make it evil?

Did it make her evil?

Anna had shown her the answer to that question already.

“...Thank you,” she said. “You don’t know what it’s like to be alone with this for so long. So thank you.”

Something in his gaze shifted, and he used his free hand to gently pry her fingers away. “I have an idea,” he said softly.

Elsa frowned. It was like he’d become a different creature just now, not just familiar, but comforting. She almost reached for him, but he withdrew.

“Until we meet again,” he said, fading into the shadows.

With Pitch’s departure, starlight returned to the room and illuminated the glass of her window. Elsa approached the window and caught sight of the nearly full moon, so bright after the comparable inkiness of Pitch’s presence. She put a hand on the thick windowpane and let her power flow, the way she’d done as a child. Frostlings curled into the shape of lush leaves, little frost ferns. Normally, Elsa drew flowers in the glass, but for now she was content to let her magic do as it pleased. She thought little of it.

“Until then,” she said, unsure whether to dread or look forward to it.

* * *

 

Jack Frost meandered the bright, red halls of North’s workshop, poking at unfinished toys with his staff and freezing cookie dough about to go into the oven. Midget elves ran around, hardly noticing him in their haste to fix his trickery. Jack laughed.

_I wish I could bring Jaime here. Bet he’d have a field day._

Months had passed since the debacle with Pitch Black and the Guardians, and now Jack felt better than ever. People believed in him, and he’d never felt so alive.

“Oh look, it’s Frosty the Snowman, late as usual.”

And just like that, Jack’s good mood soured. “Bunny,” he greeted over his shoulder.

Bunnymund smirked, but it only made him look like he’d eaten a lemon. Rabbits should never smirk, Jack decided. The thought made him snicker, and Bunnymund’s expression fell.

“You were just thinking something crass, weren’t you?” Bunnymund put a hand on his boomerang, though he did not draw it. “You know, I still haven’t forgotten about 1968. I’d say you still owe me for that bloody mess.”

Jack sighed and sent a small cold front up a nearby elf’s tunic. The elf squealed and ran to hide behind a group of passing reindeer. “Aw come on, Bunny. That was like, ages ago. Plus, remember who helped you out with last Easter. Yeah, you’re welcome.”

Bunnymund pointed an accusatory finger at Jack. “You only did that because you wrecked the theone before that.”

Jack pointed his staff. “Careful, you’ll give yourself gray hairs.”

As if on cue, the scruff between Bunnymund’s ears frosted over and stood on end, making him jump at the chill. “You little—”

“Better hurry, we’re late for North’s meeting!” Jack said, laughing as Bunnymund chased him among the overflowing toy stations.

The two of them rolled into the meeting room where the other Guardians had already gathered. Literally.

“Hey, you two having a wrestling match? I take the winner!” North said, crouching down before a dishevelled Jack and Bunnymund.

“Nice going. I didn’t know you had two left feet, Bunny,” Jack grumbled, helping his fellow Guardian up.

“Me? _You’re_ the one to barreled into me!”

“Ahh, details.”

Toothiana buzzed around the room all aflutter. “Boys, boys, _boys_! It’s almost time!”

Jack looked between her and Sandy, who was sitting on the floor half asleep and dreaming of candy. He shook his head with a smile. It had been awhile since they’d all gathered like this, and he’d missed them.

“Sandy, yo,” Jack said, plopping down across from the tiny golden spirit.

Sandy cracked an eye open, reached over his head to grab a dancing dream candycane, and ate it. He waved at Jack.

“That...taste good?”

Sandy’s smile widened.

“Oh! Sandy, hon, you’ll get cavities if you eat too many sweets. You should be more like Jack. Look at those chompers!”

Toothiana forced Jack’s mouth open and giggled to herself. “Gee, ask a girl to dinner first, stud!”

Jack gently lowered her hands. “Nice to see you, too.”

“So am I here for a routine cleaning or are we getting down to business?” Bunnymund asked, thumping his foot ever faster.

Toothiana and Sandy stared at the motion, their eyes shifting faster and faster as Bunnymund increased his speed. Jack waved in front of their faces to get their attention.

“Uh...hello?”

Toothiana fluttered her wings and shot into the air, surprised, and Sandy coughed up the candy cane he’d eaten before.

“Haha! That was a nice trick, Sandy Man!” North guffawed.

“I’m okay! A-okay,” Toothiana called from the rafters where she’d landed on a ceiling fan.

“Guess it _has_ been awhile since we were all in the same room together, huh,” Jack said.

“Ah yes, my fellow Guardians. We are here today because Man in Moon has dire news,” North said, all traces of his former amusement gone.

The five Guardians gathered at a wide, round table and took their seat, ready to get down to business. Jack tensed. The Man in the Moon didn’t communicate much with anyone, and when he did it was a cause for concern. Things had been quiet since Pitch’s downfall, and every day had been fun despite the warm summer that had accosted Burgess. Jack was happy to wait for the seasons to change in his hometown, though. For the first time in his second life, he didn’t mind having all the time in the world when he could spend it all making children laugh.

“Tooth, if you please,” North said.

Toothiana flew toward the ceiling and opened the rafters. Moonlight spilled onto the table and over the Guardians. Jack’s snowy hair glowed as though with a light all its own, and he had a flash of his reawakening, unbidden. He frowned and dispelled the thought. It had been so long since he’d even thought about his death and rebirth, so why now?

The Guardians watched in silence as the moonlight intensified, almost viscous. A voice echoed all around them, everywhere and nowhere at once. It had been centuries since Jack had heard that voice, and he hardly remembered it as anything more than a dream. But this was real enough.

_“Guardians. A world is in need of your assistance. Pitch Black has escaped.”_

Jack shivered in spite of himself. Not from cold, but from something more insidious. The Man in the Moon was their leader, he supposed, but he was a mysterious essence that remained far removed from the goings-on of the world. A benevolent creator, and an indifferent spectator.

“Pitch?” Toothiana said, tapping at her teeth. “But my baby teeth would have sensed him. There’s nothing amiss here. Um, sir.”

“Wouldn’t put it past the slimy bastard to slither his way under our noses. I say we flush him out ourselves,” Bunnymund said, drawing his boomerang.

“Man in Moon said _a_ world,” North said, pensive. “This means it is not _this_ world, yes?”

There was no response, but the moonlight shifted and twisted into a new shape. A city surrounded by mountains and rivers.

_“Arendelle.”_

The word hung in the air, but Jack was drawing a blank. He’d never heard of such a place. Sandy clapped his hands together and communicated his thoughts in a rapid flurry of changing thought bubbles.

“You know the place, Sandy?” Jack asked.

Sandy nodded vigorously and proceeded to explain.

“Ahh, so you need to cross a dimension to reach it,” North said. He shrugged. “Makes sense.”

“It does?” Jack was not convinced.

“But how did Pitch get there? How do you even get to another world? And what’s he doing there?” Toothiana fired off questions at a mile a minute.

“Wreaking havoc, pillaging the hopes and dreams of innocent people. The usual,” Bunnymund said, his expression solemn.

Sandy waved his arms up and down at Toothiana, explaining in his sand-speak.

“Hmm, so Pitch used his nightmares to cross over, yes? Makes sense,” North said.

Jack rubbed his eyes. “ _How_ does any of this make sense?”

“Oh, oh! I know! Because nightmares are universal, uh-huh,” Toothiana said. “Pitch can go wherever people are afraid, here or there or anywhere.”

Jack stiffened. If that were the case, then Pitch was far more terrifying than he’d originally seemed. If he could conquer any world so long as the people there felt fear, what had stopped him from doing so before? What was he waiting for? And why?

“Well, someone’s gotta go after him,” Bunnymund said.

North pulled on his beard. “Yes, it is a difficult decision, but someone must go. I volunteer.”

“But North! Christmas is in a few months. You can’t just leave!” Toothiana said.

“Ah, and Easter’s just after. No telling how long it’ll take to find Pitch and haul his arse back here.” Bunnymund crossed his arm and jutted out his bottom lip.

“And the teeth! I have to be here to collect them or the children will stop believing.”

The room fell silent a moment and Jack stood up, nearly knocking his chair over. “I’ll go.”

Sandy floated next to Jack, his thoughts a whirl of unintelligible speech, but the meaning was clear: It’s too dangerous.

“Hey, you have to stay and take care of people’s dreams, right? Without you, kids will have nightmares, and that’s probably what Pitch wants.” Jack faced his fellow guardians, his expression set. “It has to be me. You all know it.”

“But Jack! What about winter?” Toothiana ask, buzzing close to his face so her worry was plain to see.

Jack smiled. “I’ve still got a few months before it hits here. Besides, winter got on just fine without me before. I’ll just find Pitch fast so it’s not an issue either way. No sweat.”

Toothiana did not look convinced, and Jack realized it was not winter she was worried about, but him.

“Jack you are sure? Pitch is tricky. We do not know what you will find in this Arendelle place,” North said.

“I can handle Pitch,” Jack said softly. “I did it before.”

Bunnymund peered at Jack. “It wasn’t easy last time, mate.”

Jack clenched a fist as he remembered Pitch’s manipulation. False promises and the possibility of hope steeped in darkness.

_“What goes together better than cold and dark?”_

A part of him pitied Pitch, understood him. But it was no excuse for Pitch’s actions. It was why Jack was a Guardian now and Pitch had been banished. But Jack knew a thing or two about being forgotten, the misery of loneliness. To give in would be a fate worse than any death. Pitch was not the type to go down without a fight, like him.

“I’m not saying it’ll be easy. But I don’t have much of a choice unless we wanna let Pitch run free.”

No further protests were entertained. It was decided. The moonlit image of Arendelle faded and only a beam of concentrated light remained in its place.

“So how am I getting to Arendelle?”

“Through Man in Moon,” North said. “Nightmares are universal, and so is the moon.”

Jack nodded and grabbed his staff. He stepped onto the table under the light, blinded. He could barely make out the other Guardians through the veil.

“Be careful, Jack!” Toothiana called.

“Yeah, don’t make me miss Easter to come in there after you, or there’ll be hell to pay,” Bunnymund said.

Jack smiled a little. “I’ll be back in time for the frost of the century.”

“Godspeed, Jack,” North said.

The moon’s light intensified and Jack looked up, wondering if the Man in the Moon was looking down on him. But there was only blinding white, too bright, and Jack had to close his eyes to withstand it. He rose from solid ground, floating, and the light burned brighter. He opened his mouth to cry out, and suddenly it was gone.

And Jack was gone with it.


	2. Arendelle

A mouthful of dirt was not the grand entrance Jack had hoped to make upon arriving in Arendelle. And yet, he rubbed his tongue with the sleeve of his blue hoodie to get the taste out. Sputtering, he looked up and glared at the moon, still visible despite the onset of daylight.

“Coulda put me down nice and slow, you know. Damn.”

As usual, there was no answer. If Jack had not heard the Man in the Moon speak to the Guardians of Pitch’s actions, he may have gone on believing he’d dreamed the voice up. Now they were back to the silent treatment. Business as usual.

 _Whatever_ , he thought bitterly.

Jack picked himself up and looked around. He’d landed somewhere at the base of a mountain chain. Up higher, snowy peaks reached for the morning heavens, pink and orange bleeding into the stygian night sky as the sun crept higher in the east. The moon sank on the western horizon, and Jack was alone. He sighed and snowflakes swirled before him. He swatted them away, frowning. Weird, that had never happened before.

In the distance Jack could hear bells tolling. He walked beyond the few trees in the area to get a better view. Below and in the distance, a city stretched out for miles among the base of the mountains surrounded by lakes and rivers. Beyond it a giant waterfall disappeared among the forest. A castle made of stone was the tallest building in the settlement, grand and decorated with green banners and flags. He couldn’t make out any people from this distance, but Jack could imagine them all waking and preparing for a busy day ahead. He got a strange sense of deja-vu that reminded him of his old life, a life before Jack Frost. This surely was another world, as North had said, and one stuck in a different era than modern-day Burgess, Pennsylvania.

“Somewhere over the rainbow much,” Jack said, leaning on his staff. “And now to find the wicked witch.”

The only clue to Pitch’s whereabouts Jack had at the moment was Arendelle. So to Arendelle Jack would go. He raised two fingers to his lips and whistled for a strong wind. When it swept him off his feet, Jack nearly dropped his staff under the force of the gale.

“Whoa!”

Jack somersaulted in mid-air four times over before getting his bearings. Okay, so maybe he’d overdone it a little. The winds here were just stronger than the ones back home. Duly noted. The night sky receded to day in the half hour it took Jack to reach the outskirts of Arendelle proper. He touched down just outside the gates, which were open to admit travellers. Guards stood watch but Jack strolled right past them.

One can imagine Jack’s utter astonishment when one of the guards stopped him with a fearsome spear to the chest.

“State your purpose in Arendelle, sir.”

A few seconds ticked by and Jack peered over his shoulder. There was no one else around.

“Sir, your name and purpose.”

Jack turned back to the guard, whose face was concealed by an iron helmet. He was decked out in medieval armor, and the spear in his hand did not look very inviting.

“Are you talking to me?” Jack asked.

The guard brought his spear down and tapped its end on the ground. “Who else would I be talking to?”

Jack’s stomach threatened to exit his mouth like one of those alien-looking jungle slugs you see on the Discovery Channel. Only recently, children had begun to believe in and see him. But adults? Jack had never even considered the possibility. Something was amiss, but the child in him was bursting with laughter. Mostly at the image of himself as a slug with a rogue stomach.

“So...you can see me,” he said.

The guard began to grow impatient. “Sir, I’ll have to turn you away unless you comply with our regulations and _state your purpose_.”

On second thought, his visibility now was an annoyance. Jack had never been anything more than indifferent about his invisibility on his best days, but now he sort of wished for it if only to make things easier on himself. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Best not to chance that giant fire poker.

“Uh, I’m Jack. Purpose? I guess I’m looking for a...friend of mine. I heard he might be here visiting.”

The guard hesitated, suspicious, and Jack considered just skating by.

“I’m just passing through,” Jack added. “I don’t plan to stay long or cause any trouble.” _Much._

He plastered his best (cheesiest) smile on his youthful face, the one that made him look fourteen instead of nineteen, and it worked. The guard lifted his spear and stepped aside.

“Welcome to Arendelle.”

Jack skipped past the guard and saluted him. “Thanks, dude!”

Once inside, Jack slowed to a walk and ran a hand through his hair, reeling. He chanced a look around. The roads were all hand-laid cobblestone and the houses were made of stone bricks. Ships docked in the harbors and sailors loaded and unloaded crates of wares, probably for trade. Women and men shopped at the morning markets for produce and the day’s catch. Jack even heard a blacksmith hammering away in a shop he passed. The people he walked by on the streets all shot him curious looks, perhaps because of his strange attire.

 _They can really see me_ , Jack marvelled. He could have cried in some weird outburst of joy and a little sadness at the irony of having to travel to another _dimension_ to be noticed. In fact, he did.

“The hell...?”

Jack had never been able to cry since his rebirth as the spirit of winter. His tears froze on his cheeks like miniature pearls, hardened ice that reflected the sun. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

He laughed out loud.

The next person who walked by, an old lady, gave him an odd look. Jack waved and bid her ‘good morning, ma’am,’ and she returned the greeting with a shy smile. He laughed some more.

Jack walked through the town with a hand in his pocket, his eyes darting around and taking in the surroundings. Looking at Arendelle, Jack was nostalgic for his previous life as a colonist in fledgling America. He hadn’t had much then, but it had been enough. It had been his to share with the sister he’d loved more than anything. He’d never dreamed that there might be other worlds, alternate timelines, and now he felt silly that he hadn’t. If people like Santa Claus were real, then surely a place like Arendelle was no further stretch of the imagination. Children ran up and down the street playing tag, and Jack stopped to watch them, smiling. It was still early in the fall and the leaves hadn’t changed yet. Much too early for frost, though Jack was tempted to have a little fun and make the children laugh.

The children, two little boys and a girl, noticed Jack’s approach and stood up straight. Jack faltered at their formality.

“Whoa, at ease, men,” Jack said.

The little boys exchange wide-eyed looks, and Jack chuckled.

“I’m Jack. What’re your names?”

They didn’t answer, and the boys kept their heads down. The girl, a little redhead with dark eyes, peered up at Jack. Jack touched his face and his chest. Still solid, right?

“Hey, you guys wouldn’t know anything about nightmares, wouldya? Have you been having any scary dreams lately?”

The little boys exchanged a look like they’d been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. “No, sir,” they said in unison.

Jack got the strangest sensation that they were a little wary of him. It was not a happy feeling. Granted, his appearance was odd in this world and the next, but he meant no harm, especially not to children.

“You should see the queen, Mister,” the little girl said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

One of the little boys perked up, apprehension forgotten. “Queen Elsa knows everything!”

Jack frowned. “The queen? Do you think she would know about any nightmares?”

The boys scrunched up their faces, confused. Jack decided he better try asking some adults, since they could see him. Perhaps this queen.

“You’re sparkling, like her,” the little girl said.

“Huh?”

She pointed somewhere behind Jack, and he looked around. Melting footprints followed him to his current position, frosted imprints on the stone that had birthed inverted icicles. They glittered in the morning sunlight. He let his jaw hang open. First the snowflake breath, now this. He hadn’t even noticed he was conjuring. The thought was more than a little alarming. Jack had struggled to control his powers in the past, and only since Pitch’s defeat had he mastered them. Now, all that hard work seemed to be going up in flames. This was potentially dangerous.

He turned back to the children, but they’d run off, probably to find their parents. Jack rose and tapped his staff on the ground. Frost fractals bloomed at its base without his consent, and he narrowed his eyes. This place was weird. People could see him as if he were real, and his cryokinetic powers had risen to new (uncontrollable) heights. He could almost smell the magic permeating this land. The fact that Pitch was out here somewhere alarmed Jack even more. It couldn’t have been a coincidence that Pitch had chosen to come here.

“What are you up to, Pitch?”

Jack would find no answers merely standing here. Ahead, at the end of the promenade, stood Arendelle castle, tall and imposing. With nothing else to go on, Jack figured he might as well pay a visit to this Queen Elsa. Maybe she could explain the magic here, at the very least. Decided, Jack made his way to the castle. His footsteps glistened behind him like a trail of frozen morning dew.

* * *

 

The palace courtyard was open to the public, and families enjoyed activities such as kite flying and painting on this warm day. Jack walked among them, silent as he observed. Those who noticed him gave him odd looks, and he decided he should think about getting some more suitable clothing for his stay at some point. By now the sun had risen high enough to warm even Jack’s frozen skin. He closed his eyes for a moment and drank it in.

The castle was removed from the city and sat on a lake, floating. Jack watched his reflection in the water as he walked by, rippling and warped. He made some faces and watched the water change, like a funhouse of mirrors at a carnival. A young couple passed him and raised their eyebrows at his antics, and Jack bit back a laugh. He’d been spending way too much time around only children to blend in easily among adults his own age, he supposed. Note to self.

Lost in thought, Jack wandered into the palace’s receiving room only to encounter a long queue of people standing around talking. From the looks of them, they were ordinary citizens. One man, a farmer no doubt, carried a bushel of carrots under his arm, but they appeared rotten. A few children stood in line wiping tears from their dirty faces. More comfortable with children than with adults, Jack approached a little boy trying his hardest not to cry.

“Hey, what’s wrong, kid?”

The little boy jumped at Jack’s sudden proximity, and he shivered. Jack’s expression fell, and he pulled back a bit. Even his mere presence brought a cold front here.

“You’re so cold,” the little boy said, his watering green eyes wide with wonder and a little fear.

“Ah, yeah, most kids think I’m pretty cool,” Jack said, grinning. “So...why’re you crying?”

At the mention of tears, the little boy remembered that he had, in fact, been crying, and his face fell. “It’s my father. He’s real sick.”

“Oh man, that’s awful.”

“But the queen can help!” the little boy insisted. “She knows doctors who can make my father all better. I’m gonna ask her help.”

“You mean Queen Elsa?”

The little boy nodded. “Yeah, she helps everyone. Princess Anna, too.”

“So that’s why you’re waiting in line, then? To see them?”

“Yep. Are you sick, too, Mister? You look dead.”

Jack frowned and felt his face. Cold to the touch, as always, though he was used to it. The way the kid said it, like death was part and parcel to his everyday existence, unsettled Jack. It was probably nothing, but...

“Well, I’m here talking to you, so I can’t be dead, right?”

“Unless you’re a ghost. Are you a ghost?” the little boy whispered, his eyes growing impossibly wider.

“Nah, but I _can_ do this.” Jack snapped his fingers and a few snowflakes materialized. One landed on the little boy’s nose, and he sneezed.

“Wow!” The little boy tried to catch the falling flurries, his tears forgotten.

“Nick, c’mon, time to go in,” an older girl said, tugging the young boy along.

“Didya see that?” the little boy asked his sister.

Jack waved, but the small family had disappeared inside the receiving chambers. Rising, Jack looked back at the rest of the line. It stretched all the way outside. He was going to be here for awhile if he wanted a chance to see the queen. Resigning himself to a boring morning, he dragged his feet and found a place at the back of the line. He pulled his hood over his head to avoid at least some attention. His clothes and bare feet were out of place enough as it were. No need to explain to curious civilians why his hair was as white as a corpse’s.

The minutes ticked by and the line moved slowly, but it did move. Jack watched the sun in rise higher in the sky from under his hood. Some of the palace guards gave him strange looks, and he did his best to look non-threatening. If people could see him here, he had to be on his best behavior. Having to stomp on his own icy footprints was less than subtle, but he focused on regulating his magic at least enough to stop leaving discernible traces.

After about three hours of waiting, Jack was at the front of the line. There weren’t many people behind him now, and he wondered if the queen had a set time frame for meeting with complainants. Jack was about to sit on the floor to wait out his turn when he sensed a commotion from the palace gates.

“What do you mean, you _lost_ him?” a woman’s voice said.

“Hey now, _lost_ is such a strong word. You know Olaf, he kinda blends in.”

A sturdy blond man followed a pretty woman with braids in her auburn hair—a high born lady, judging from her attire—through the castle gates and past the line of complainants toward the inner palace. He was scratching his head and looking flustered. Jack watched them, curious.

“It’s not even winter. There’s no snow, so how could he blend in with anything?” The woman threw her hands up, exasperated. “Oh man. What if he’s been run over by stampeding reindeer? What if some kids got the wrong idea about him? Oh Kristoff, this is terrible!”

“Anna, calm down. Sven’ll find him.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Well, Sven promised he would.”

Anna sighed turned away from her companion. “You mean _you_ promised while impersonating him. What am I going to tell Elsa? Remember the last time Olaf got lost?”

Kristoff bit his lip. “Yeah... That was bad.”

“I’m just saying it’s a good thing he’s so malleable or Elsa would’ve had her hands full putting him back together after that freak dog sled incident.”

Jack chuckled at their expense. It wasn’t often that he saw such an imposing man cowed under a woman’s sharp tongue. Children rarely had this type of interaction, so Jack had only ever watched it from afar. Adults, he supposed, had their shining moments, too.

“Come on, let’s go talk to Elsa and get it over with. I’m sure she’ll want to help look for Olaf.”

Anna pulled Kristoff forward and they cut directly in front of Jack, disappearing into the receiving room where the queen supposedly awaited complainants. Jack thought about telling them they should take a number like everyone else, but thought better of it at the last second. No need to draw unwanted attention until he got what he came for.

The lacquered doubled doors to the receiving room opened and the group of townspeople that had been in line ahead of him brushed past Jack looking less anxious than they had when they’d gone in twenty minutes ago. Never one to wait around for things to come to him, Jack thought little of Anna and Kristoff being inside already. He’d waited all morning, damnit, and it was his turn to see the queen. So inside Jack went.

The room was wide and high-ceilinged. A thick, maroon rug stretched over black marble tiling from the doorway to the other end of the room where a lavish throne sat. It glistened in the sunlight diffusing through tall windows, almost translucent. Chandeliers hung from wooden rafters above. The plastered walls were painted green with gold ivy trimming. He walked along the rug toward the throne. Anna and Kristoff were there, and they were talking to someone Jack couldn’t quite make out.

“So where was the last place you saw him, again?” came a woman’s voice.

“ _Apparently_ , Kristoff took him to a pub and the natives got a bit restless,” Anna said. “You know, and by natives I mean town drunks.”

“Yes, I figured as much...”

“Whoa whoa, ladies, please. Olaf’s a big boy. He’ll be fine. Everyone knows him around here, too. I’m sure Sven’ll find him and this’ll all be a funny joke later tonight—” Kristoff began.

“You sent a reindeer to find Olaf? Why would you do such a thing?” the woman said.

“Uh, because Sven _promised_ to find him.”

“Aaaaand we’re back to willful impersonation,” Anna said.

“Halt,” a guard said, stepping in front of Jack and blocking his path before Jack could hear the rest of the conversation. “Her Majesty is preoccupied. Complaints are over for the day. Please return to your home and come back tomorrow.”

“Huh? But I just waited like three hours to see her, man!” Jack said. “My time is money, you know.”

“It matters not. Please leave immediately or I will forcibly escort you out.”

Jack was ready to give this guy a mouthful of snow when the doors behind him burst open with a loud _crash_. A giant reindeer galloped through the hall at top speed, and Jack and the guard had to skid out of the way to avoid a head-on collision. As the animal passed, Jack got a glimpse of a limp, pink tongue slobbering all over its face and ear.

“Honey, I’m hoooome!”

“Olaf!” Anna called.

“Sven!” Kristoff said, running to meet the charging reindeer like it was no risk to his person.

The reindeer tackled Kristoff to the floor and licked his face with the very tongue that had loosed a hurricane of slobber in its wake. Jack would have cringed if not for the very distracting, sentient snowman skipping toward the throne singing the words, ‘How do you like me now?’ over and over to a tune in his head.

“Olaf, you’re alive!” Anna said, pulling the lump of snow into a hug.

Olaf smiled and hugged her back with his stick-like arms. Jack nearly fell over in shock at the sight. A _talking snowman._

Well, to be fair, Jack was friends with a six-foot tall talking rabbit that ran around the world leaving smelly eggs on people’s doorsteps. Maybe Olaf wasn’t such a shock in comparison.

“Dorothy babe, we’re _really_ not in Kansas anymore,” Jack said aloud.

In the commotion, Jack’s hood fell back and exposed him to scrutinizing eyes. Anna had heard his little comment and focused on him.

“Who’re you?” she asked.

Kristoff, Olaf, and the queen turned their gazes on Jack, who could only stare back. When he locked eyes with the queen, Jack forgot how to breathe.

“My sister asked you a question,” she said, stepping forward. “Who are you?”

She was swathed in ice crystals. He could tell them a mile away. Her throne, too, was crafted of ice upon closer inspection. The air around her was chilly despite the warm, autumn day. He saw it in the way the others’ breath steamed if they got too close to her.

“I... Queen Elsa?” Jack stammered.

Elsa frowned. Her blue eyes gave him a once-over, and when she took notice of his feet something shifted in her. She put a protective hand in front of Anna.

“Stand back.”

“Elsa—” Anna said.

“I said get back. All of you.”

Kristoff took Anna’s hand and scooped up Olaf with his free arm, retreating behind Elsa. The queen advanced on Jack. In her wake, the marble floor misted with frost. Elsa raised a hand toward Jack, and it glowed with the makings of a miniature tempest. The threat was clear.

“You have one last chance to speak before I relieve you of the ability forever,” Elsa said.

Jack blinked and stared between her eyes and her glowing hand. Perhaps anyone else would have been afraid in his situation. Perhaps he should have been, too. But seeing the world as he did, its beauty frozen in time and reflecting the timeless sun, he could only laugh. So laugh he did.

Elsa faltered and lowered her hand just a bit. The front had cracked, and with it any hope of cowing Jack into submission. Didn’t she know? _Not_ knowing was half the fun.

Like he’d done with countless children before, Jack reached out and took her hand in his before she could pull away. As soon as they made contact, the magic Elsa had conjured burst like it was on fire. The temperature in the room plummeted and frost snaked about their entwined hands. A cold mist swirled around them, dusting every available surface with winter’s velvet breath. Breath that she’d stolen from him when he’d first laid eyes on her. It was all around them, among them, part of them. And it was gone just as soon as it had appeared.

Elsa yanked her hand back, eyes wide like a caged animal. Her repeated question still hung in the air around them as Anna and the others looked on, huddled for warmth.

Jack swept his staff to the side and bowed low before Elsa. “Jack Frost, at your service.”

* * *

 

Elsa could hardly believe her eyes. She’d sensed something strange about Jack when she’d first laid eyes on him, and her thoughts immediately went to Pitch. First him, and now this? She couldn’t take any chances with Anna and Kristoff in the room, so she’d neutralized the threat before it could manifest, just in case.

And the _threat_ had laughed in her face.

Elsa composed herself. The hand he’d stolen, the one she now held close to her heart, still tingled with the effects of his magic and hers. So cold, and so familiar.

“You’re definitely not Jack Frost,” Kristoff said, stepping forward.

Elsa lost her train of thought and peered at Kristoff, who had decided the situation was no danger. She was about to tell him to stand back again, but Jack’s voice stopped her.

“So you’ve heard of me, eh? Guess my reputation precedes me.”

“Yeah. Jack Frost, spirit of winter, duh. I know my ice, okay. And _you’re_ definitely not him.”

Elsa caught Anna’s eye, but Anna gave her a blank look.

“Uh, dude, I kind of _am_. You got something to say to me?”

Kristoff shrugged. “Jack Frost’s a wrinkled old fart. You know, Old Man Winter.” He gave Jack a noticeable once-over and shook his head in mock disappointment.

Jack smirked, and Elsa decided she did not like the look in his eyes. It spelled trouble, and normal people like Kristoff were not equipped to handle trouble like this.

“Old man? Listen, bro. I’ve been doing this job going on three hundred years now. Not my problem I age well.”

“Three hundred years? But you can’t be more than fifteen years old!” Anna said, stepping forward and making to poke Jack in the face to make sure he was real.

Kristoff grabbed her before she could make it. “Fifteen’s pushing it, I’d say.”

Jack’s amusement faded at their teasing. “Nineteen, actually. You got a problem with that?”

In his carelessness, Jack’s hands began to glow with winter magic, and Elsa found herself once more. She stamped a heeled foot on the floor, and a wave of ice rushed Jack, knocking him backward. He landed with a _thud_ on his rear, conjuring more frost around the vicinity.

“ _Ow_.”

“Is he okay?” Olaf asked, scuttling forward.

Elsa put an arm out to stop him. “Everyone out. The guards, too. I want to speak to our guest alone.”

It was too risky to have any normal people in the same room, even trained palace guards, should things take a turn for the worst. Jack winced as he pulled himself up off the floor, making a big show of it, but Elsa was not known for her patience when irritated.

“What are you doing here? Did someone send you here? State your purpose,” she demanded.

Jack straightened to his full height, but he leaned on his staff for support as though he might fall asleep at any moment. “Why’s everyone here want me to state my purpose? Do you people go around stating purposes on a daily basis? Doesn’t that get old?”

Elsa did not appreciate his cheek, and it showed. “Mr. Frost, you—”

“Oh, god, just Jack. Please. I know I’m _technically_ ancient, but give me a break.”

Elsa frowned, her determination faltering. It was the second time he’d done that to her today. “...Fine, Jack. Who sent you? If this is supposed to be another of Weselton’s assassination attempts, I’m sorry to say it’s their most pathetic yet.”

Jack perked up. “Assassination? No, you’ve got the wrong idea. Why would I want to assassinate anyone?”

She studied him for signs of duplicity but found none.

“Hold up, are you saying people’ve tried to assassinate you before?”

Elsa did not flinch. “Yes. And if you’re not here for that, then I can only assume you’re here to cause trouble for my people. Leave Arendelle at once.”

Jack caught her wrist before she had a chance to pull away, and Elsa reacted on instinct with frozen fire. He caught her offending hand in his, keeping her storm at bay with his own magic. They were at a stalemate, and he wasn’t playing around anymore.

“Why can you do that?” he asked, his voice low and serious.

“Why can _you_?”

“I told you. I’m Jack Frost, the spirit of winter.”

Elsa had heard the tale as a child, a silly fairy tale her mother sometimes warned Anna about when Anna wanted to rush outside into the snow without her mittens.

_“You don’t want Jack Frost nipping at your nose!”_

To think that he was real... Elsa had witnessed far stranger phenomena in her life, she supposed.

“...I was born this way. Now release me.”

Jack still had one of her wrists and her other hand locked within his larger one as their magic sparked between them. “Promise you won’t knock me down again?”

Elsa glared at him. “If you promise not to attack anyone.”

“I thought we already established that I’m not some black-ops snow sniper.”

“Black what?”

“Uh, never mind. I’m not here to hurt anyone, okay? I just have some questions for you.”

Slowly, Jack loosened his grip and released her. She stepped back far enough to put some distance between them, though he didn’t bother moving. A quick glance around the room showed that the whole place had frozen over, like a storm had blown through this part of the castle. The ivy on the walls glittered like real gold under the afternoon sunlight, almost too bright. It was like being in a house of glass. Elsa exhaled a shaky breath and produced a few snowflakes that fluttered to the ground, silent.

“Wow,” he said, watching her snowflakes fall.

Elsa shot him a suspicious look, and he shook his head.

“Sorry, it’s just that I’ve never met anyone like me. I thought I was the only one for so long.”

Elsa had not been expecting such an admission, and it showed. He looked so candid, like he was speaking directly to her. No smirks or sarcasm or parlor tricks.

“...If it’s any consolation, I could say the same,” she said. It was as sincere as she was willing to get with this man, whose purpose was still a mystery.

He stared at her, suddenly appearing older than he looked. Tired. But it was gone in a flash, and he smiled wide and bright.

“Well, to be honest, I’m here looking for someone. He’s hard to miss, so I thought you might have seen or heard of him.”

Elsa relaxed a little now that the focus had shifted away from personal matters. “There are many men in my kingdom and those beyond. You’ll have to be more specific.”

Jack paced the room toward the windows, which were dusted with frost. Elsa watched him trace patterns, fernlings that grew under his guidance. They were more beautiful than any natural leaves.

“Try tall, dark, and shadowy. I mean literal shadows, not the metaphor. Although, he’s pretty shady, too.” He caught her eye over his shoulder. “Pitch Black’s his name, and he has this nasty habit of scaring the crap outta people.”

Elsa remained still and impassive as Jack spoke the name of her recent midnight visitor. She should have guessed that things would not end with his departure. Pitch had mentioned the possibility of his future death, and Jack’s appearance now was no coincidence. What was going on? Elsa was sure she did not want to be in the middle of it, for Arendelle’s sake.

“I know him,” she said. “He was here not long ago.”

Jack spun around and kicked up a snow flurry. “Wait, seriously? Like, in this castle, here? Where’d he go?”

“He’s not here now. This was several days ago.” She paused, thinking. “I got the impression that the didn’t intend to return.”

“I have to find him. I have to bring him back.”

“Back?”

“Yeah, back to my world.” He shook his head. “I mean, I’m not from around here, obviously. Neither is Pitch. Long story short, I have to bring him back before he does something terrible.”

“Something terrible?”

“Yeah, he’s no hero, and that’s me being nice about it.” Jack’s gaze was far away and clouded with old memories. “I have to stop him.”

Elsa remained silent. From what she had seen of Pitch Black, he was not a force to be reckoned with. He was possessed of a dark power, something ancient and cold, and Elsa had no intention of involving herself or her kingdom with him. But she hadn’t thought him evil or nefarious. Perhaps he had an agenda, but everyone did.

 _“Just because your magic and mine_ can _kill, doesn’t mean we_ must _.”_

Jack didn’t strike Elsa as the killing type, contrary to her initial fears over his appearance. Looking at him now, she could see what folly that idea had been. But Anna’s safety was Elsa’s priority. Better to be safe than sorry.

“Well, I wish you luck with that. But Pitch Black is not here, and he hasn’t been for days.”

Jack caught Elsa’s wrist again as she made to leave, but this time she forced herself not to retaliate. His grip was firm but not painful. She turned to look at him over her shoulder.

“What was he doing here?” Pausing, Jack added, “Did you ask him to state his purpose, too?”

There was something naturally irritating about Jack. It wasn’t offensive. It was more like an itch that wasn’t bad enough to merit a scratch, but it was still felt. It lingered the way his hand lingered on her wrist, and she debated yanking it free.

“His business was with me. It’s not your concern.”

Jack stepped closer and pulled her wrist. “It’s my concern if he plans on hurting anyone. If he said something to you, I need you to tell me what.”

He was too close, and Elsa did not appreciate the violation of her personal space. “I don’t have to tell you something that doesn’t concern you. Nothing about his visit was hostile in any way. He simply wanted to speak with me, and then he left. I haven’t heard from him since. Now, I’ve been more than gracious with your questions, so take your hand off me.”

Jack complied without a fuss. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, just...”

Elsa paused, waiting for him to finish.

“Never mind. He’s just bad news, okay? If you hear from him again, tell me. You don’t want to get involved with him, trust me.”

“Are we done here?” Elsa asked, looking around and assessing the damage they’d done to the receiving room. It was nothing she couldn’t handle.

Jack watched her a moment, his expression unreadable. There was that _itch_ again.

“...Sure, if you want. I’ll be searching Arendelle until I find Pitch, though. So I’ll see you around, I guess.”

This time, when Jack tried to leave Elsa snatched his wrist to stop him.

“You’re not searching anywhere. You have to leave.”

He frowned. “Listen, Elsa. Er, Your Highness. This is Mission: Impossible and I’m Tom Cruise. I can’t go back empty-handed or a lot of innocent people will suffer. I don’t expect you to get involved or help me, but I have to find Pitch, and I’m not leaving until I do.”

Insufferable man. Elsa had no idea who Tom Cruise was or what his connection to all this was, but she knew the look in Jack’s eyes. He would not budge on this. It was the same look Anna got when she put her mind to something. “Then if you must stay, you’ll stay here.”

“What? Like, _here_ here?”

“Obviously. I can’t have you running around my kingdom freezing people.”

“Hey, I thought I told you that’s not my style.”

“You did, but accidents happen. One bad one and people could get hurt.”

Elsa heard Pitch’s voice in her head speaking for her. She believed his words more than ever. For herself, there was no choice in the matter. But for another? Elsa could control Jack’s exposure at least so he wouldn’t end up killing anyone.

“Actually, I was gonna ask you about that, too. This place... It’s like my magic’s on speed.”

Elsa gave him a blank look. For the life of her, she could not understand his most peculiar dialect. She believed that he was not from around here. He picked up on her confusion and smiled.

“I mean, it’s haywire. Look.” He pointed to his feet, which left icy footprints in their wake. “It’s okay if I concentrate, but this shouldn’t be happening at all.”

“All the more reason for you to stay where I can keep can eye on you,” Elsa said. “Come with me.”

She walked toward the door to the inner castle where Anna and Kristoff had disappeared earlier, expecting Jack to follow, but he hung back. Elsa was fast losing her patience with him. It was like he didn’t know how to take anything seriously.

“Excuse me. I said, come with me.”

Jack ignored her and touched a hand to a frosted wall. “You just gonna leave this place frozen? I kinda feel bad about wrecking your throne room.”

Elsa resisted the urge to sigh. “No, of course not.” She touched a hand to the wall and leaned into it. Veins of magic snaked along the room’s frozen surfaces from her fingertips, thawing the frost as they went. Moisture dripped to the floor, soaking the maroon rug leading to the throne. In a matter of minutes, the walls were back to normal, if not a bit damp.

Jack peered at Elsa’s handiwork, thoughtful. “Huh, I’ve never been able to melt ice, just create it. How’d you do it?”

Elsa ignored his question. “I’ll show you to your room. Please don’t fall behind.” She exited the receiving room without waiting.

Jack, sensing that he’d be left behind, jogged after her. “Hey, wait up!”

They passed some guards standing watch at the doors, and when the guards heard Jack’s manner of speaking to their queen, they tightened their grips around their spears. Jack winced.

“I mean, please slow your progress, Your Highness.”

His correction did not seem to appease the guards, and Elsa rolled her eyes. “Just Elsa is fine. You don’t strike me as one for formalities, and I doubt you have the desire to learn.”

She led him up a grand staircase two floors to a corridor with sleeping quarters. Jack hung back a little to admire the lavish interior. He’d spent time in medieval castles in his trips bringing winter to the world over the years. Despite his manner, he could appreciate a piece of history when he saw it, fantasy or not. When he commented on the gothic dragestil architecture he’d noticed examining the castle’s impressive exterior, Elsa peered at him, curious.

“The architectural design is native to this land. How do you know so much about it?”

Jack shrugged. “I’ve seen the style before. Lucky guess.”

He smiled, and Elsa looked away. Obviously, it had been more than a lucky guess, yet he insisted on making light of everything. What a strange man. If he truly had been around for as long as he had, she supposed he would have had ample to time to educate himself. She would never guess from the impression he’d made earlier.

“Here we are,” she said, arriving at a green-painted wooden door garnished with gold ivy. She opened it and they stepped inside.

The room was a standard guest room for visiting emissaries. A four-poster bed sat against the left wall, its curtains pulled back to air out its ten-too-many pillows. The furniture was tasteful mahogany, including a wardrobe, a desk, and a recess with a small sitting area for tea. Elsa stepped aside so Jack could look around. He whistled and plopped down on a couch under the room’s lone triangular window.

“Nice digs,” he said, resting his head on his folded arms.

Elsa did not even bother to ask the meaning of that. He looked pleased with his accommodations, and that was all she cared about. Perhaps it would be enough to keep him well behaved while she figured out what to do about his apparent adamancy on finding Pitch Black.

“Stay here,” she said. “I’ll fetch you once I’ve attended to some important business matters. Do _not_ leave this room under any circumstances. Do I make myself clear?”

Jack grinned. “You’ll fetch me? Doesn’t a queen have better things to do than worry about little old me? You know, this could all go a lot smoother if you just let me search on my own. I’d be out of your super-styled hair like that.”

He snapped his fingers and a bunch of snowflakes burst from his fingers. He shook his hand to swat them away.

Elsa advanced on him and grabbed his offending fingers. “None of that. You said yourself that you’ve had difficulties controlling your powers here. Take it as a warning not to engage in whatever tomfoolery you’re used to indulging in wherever you came from.”

Jack didn’t take offense at her harsh demeanor, and Elsa wondered if any of this was registering for him at all. Didn’t he _understand_ how dangerous their magic could be to others? Didn’t he care?

“You’re really paranoid about your magic, huh. Something bad happen in the past?”

Elsa released him as though he’d burned her and stepped back. “That is not your concern. Heed my warning about your magic, Jack Frost, or you’ll answer to me.”

He watched her a moment, and once again Elsa had the distinct impression that he was truly a soul centuries old and centuries wise despite appearances. A ghost given life and laughter. Perhaps he was who he said he was, a spirit born of ice and snow. It mattered little. He was a potential threat to Arendelle whether he meant to be or not. Elsa had seen the hell her ice powers could wreak upon others, and she had vowed never to allow such a crisis to happen again, by her hand or another’s.

“You don’t have to worry about me, okay?” He rose and looked her square in the eye. “I would never cause anyone harm with my magic. I promise you that. Whatever this rough patch is... I’ll get over it. You obviously have, so it’s not like it’s impossible.”

Elsa said nothing to that. What could she say? That she was just as much of a risk as he was? Pitch had helped get her emotions under control, and she felt the effects every day. No longer did she tread in fear of freezing an unassuming passerby’s blood with an inadvertent flick of the wrist. Just when Elsa thought she might relax a little, Jack had to show up and reopen that wound afresh. The irony was not lost on her.

“...I believe you,” she said, meaning it. “But all the same, I’d like to keep an eye on you.”

He put up his hands in a placating gesture. “Be my guest. Between you and me, you’re not the first girl to say that to me.”

Elsa pursed her lips, but she declined to rise to the bait. “I’ll return as soon as I can and we can discuss this search you seem so determined to pursue. Until then—”

“—stay here, I got it already,” Jack interrupted.

An awkward silence descended between them, and Elsa took that as her cue to leave. There was much to do after today’s complaints from the townsfolk. Of utmost importance on her to-do list was securing a royal physician for the ailing head of production of Arendelle’s prosperous barley trade. The farmer’s aggrieved family had pleaded with Elsa to help them, and she’d promised to do everything in her power.

“I’ll be going then,” she said, her mind already elsewhere.

“Yeah, run along now, Queenie.”

Elsa shot him a dirty look over her shoulder and he shrugged like he didn’t know what had bothered her, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Willing herself not to react to his petty teasing, she closed the door behind her and stomped down the hall, leaving a trail of angry inverted icicles in her wake.

When Olaf happened to wander into her path and point out that she was doing the Stomping Dance again, Elsa waved her hand sent him skating down the opposite hallway with a frosty gale.

“Woohoo!” Olaf whooped as he twirled in midair, riding the currents.

Somewhere inside, the child in Elsa blamed her outburst on Jack.

_Insufferable man._

**Author's Note:**

> A few opening notes that I promise will not appear in future chapters. I just want to be clear about a few items.
> 
> In all my stories, no character is all good or all bad. Characters may tend to lean one way or the other, but I make an effort to write them as complex, human individuals. Even the baddest of the bad have an understandable motivation, and even saints can be fools. Please keep this in mind as you read along.
> 
> Just so we’re on the same page, I haven’t ready any of the RotG books (though I should, I know), so insofar as RotG characters and events are concerned, this fic is based on the events of the film only. Any inconsistencies with the books are unintended, and I hope that doesn’t bother anyone. 
> 
> I'm aware that many Jelsa fics tend to recycle similar plot lines, so I'm sure others have thought of or written about the general concept I'm exploring in this fic. That being said, I think it's possible to bring even the most rehashed plot lines to life with enough dedication (look at all the Romeo and Juliet spinoffs, to name one obvious example). I'll do my best to do that here and offer what I hope will turn out to be a rewarding and interesting story. Of course, thoughts and impressions are most welcome, so please feel free to leave me a note.
> 
> I probably won’t be updating this super often, but it’s all planned and finalized as far as the plot goes, so I think I’ll be able to get it done. Just please bear with my horrendously slow updates, sorry. I’ll try to make them worth the wait!


End file.
